Polka Dots
by CrimsonNi
Summary: Sonny's got himself a new suit and it definitely has its effects. Except he's got an interrogation to help out with and it goes as well as everyone expects.


**6:01 AM**

There wasn't a _specific_ reason why he was in a good mood, but it didn't hurt that Caprizio hit him with a new outfit that, even to Carisi, was Barba-level of fashionable. Caprizio just happened to mention about some birthday party 3 years ago and Carisi was wearing polka dots and pulled it off really well—well he suggested Carisi trying it again.

He was skeptical; dots made him think of the old " _Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini!_ " song and although he "liked"—more liked LOVED—the song, he didn't want to be associated with it in any fashion. But Caprizio patted him on the shoulder in loud claps and a hearty laugh, assuring him that he was confident that Carisi was going to look _good_.

If he could admit it—to himself because he didn't want people thinking he had a big head—he did think he looked good. The shirt was a dark blue ,patterned with white, tiny dots; his tie was a slim black that simply matched his overcoat, but it created a package that made Carisi stand taller and feel good in his skin. Not all outfits managed to do that, but this one? He admitted, it felt good.

What Carisi was unaware of, however, was that he wasn't the only one who agreed on the outfit. Unknown to him, as he walked into the precinct, people turned (a couple of men did a double take) and stared. What was interesting was the fact that Carisi wasn't an unknown at the precinct; on the contrary, _everyone_ learned of him really quick in his earlier days. The guy was obnoxious and loud and stereotypically Italian. Granted, there was nothing wrong with coming from a culture of food and touch and loyalty, but from Carisi, it looked forced—at first. Eventually, Carisi seemed to mature into himself, grow into his skin, and became much more grounded. Even the Unis would gossip about his undercover stints, because apparently the guy was a natural in deception.

Barba noticed as well how some lawyers from 1PP would hustle each other for turns to talk to Carisi because apparently the guy was a natural in thinking outside the box. What Barba discovered, disturbingly enough, was that he was smug whenever he caught Carisi's attention and got to take it into the office. When he did, he would see all the disappointed faces because Barba—again—got to have Carisi to himself. Yes, an odd transformation from the same man that mocked Fordham Law at every chance he had, but now, he had to _force_ himself to mock Carisi. Instead, he found himself teasing the lanky giraffe because he liked seeing the white skin blush. There wasn't an exact moment that struck Barba but it started when Carisi expressed gratitude for the Bar; not that Barba understood why. Sure, he got to shadow Barba, but actual mentoring? Barba did not healthily supply, but when Carisi said it was all _thank to [him]_ , for one reason or another, that was the sexiest thing (and perhaps romantic) he had ever heard. What Barba concluded was that Carisi was not a 2 dimensional guy; he was not a complete open book that people could figure out. He was complex, interesting, even mysterious under the right circumstances.

It was obnoxious to Rollins because...things were complicated between her and "Sonny". She was on the same boat as everyone else upon meeting Carisi and she _really_ disliked him when he seemed to have a knack for things Nick didn't. Of course after Nick's departure, Carisi stuck around and grew on her; he helped her with her pregnancy, the after birth, and the early raising of Jesse. His way with kids floored her. Sure, she heard his stories of his nieces and cousins and some random in-law thrice removed with an adopted son he helped babysit, but in person, Carisi was _good_. Children just seemed to respond to him, like he was a skinny Santa Clause or something.

One day she came to the realization that she might kind of like Carisi. She expected to throw up or blush or have a need to sit down before she'd faint, but nothing happened. It was a quiet epiphany that tickled the back of her neck and when it clicked, she "borrowed" a cigarette from a nearby stranger and smoked it in one go. Rollins wasn't happy about being attracted to her partner. There isn't anything wrong with him or her, but together? That was terrifying to think about. Carisi was... _wasn't_ a human to her. He was put together in a way she could never be, no matter how many kids she has, and he was so naturally benevolent that sometimes she wanted to gag. He has a huge family and is mega religious and his accent is worse than hers and...she'd be the problem of the relationship. He would deny it if she told him, but the truth was, Carisi would be dragged down to an emotional hell if he hooked up with her. It was why she rejected him in West Virginia.

But then the handsome sonofabitch comes in with _that_ outfit and suddenly, she's reconsidering her thoughts. He looked as if he just finished a photo shoot with GQ! His hair was her favorite thing about him now because it was no longer its youthful color—probably due to stress—instead, it was a silky silver. She craved running her fingers through it and messing it up and pulling at it. He walked in and smiled at her, greeted her like the morning person he was, and shrugged off his coat to show off the remainder of his outfit. It was delectable in a way she thought impossible. Carisi didn't have pronounced muscles, but he had lines, like an art piece. Yes, Rollins was thinking cliche, but nothing else spelled of accuracy except art.

As stupid as it sounded, she theorized that it was because Carisi was not a human, but a chameleon. His head and hands and feet were big, but his limbs were long and thin, and his skin was all kinds of peach color but pale at the same time. His voice changed pitches all the time like his eye color (blue to green to grey) and his emotions were all over the place! One minute he would be happy, as excited as a puppy, and the next, he would seething, turning red and purple with a thick vein pulsing at his neck. Carisi is a natural as adapting himself and these versions of him to suit the situation; it's why he's so good at interrogation. It's frustrating sometimes, but Rollins admits that it's more intriguing trying to figure Carisi out than already knowing.

 **3:23 PM**

It had been a while since Rollins and Fin collared a suspect together since Fin was a sergeant and Rollins was either with Carisi or Liv. It was familiar and fun in a nostalgic way and she felt cool in arresting the woman with Fin hitting her with funny one-liners. The problem was, the bitch wasn't talkin'— _pardon her southern French_. They railed her with threats and facts, but she wasn't budging. A migraine was beginning to build at the base of her skull so if the lady didn't going to talk soon, something illegal was about to take place.

"Want me to tag in? Give it a shot?" She didn't need to turn to know who spoke. Duh, the accent.

Rollins looked at him and saw the determined fire brimming in his eyes. They were a crystal blue today. So blue in fact that she could identify the color from across the room. She wasn't sure why that thought stuck out to her. From her peripheral, Rollins saw Liv in her office talking with Fin and it made her wonder why Carisi was asking her, when really, he should be asking the Lieutenant. Still, the consideration was enough to mollify the beating headache.

"Knock yourself out," she eventually replied.

Carisi nodded and communicated silently to Liv, who nodded as well. It seemed the two of them were going to give it a go together. However, Liv was going to enter first. Rollins followed behind to watch behind the glass with Fin and not too far off, Barba.

"I got a call; I'm assuming this is your bad guy?"

"She hasn't said the "L" word but she's not offering anything either. We're sure its her though since she was identified by name in the victim's text messages and she has history of this kind of behavior in her past."

"What about witness testimony, videos, pictures? This history you've dug up; does it indicate a pattern I can use?"

"It didn't put her in the registry but the accusation proves that she has a shady past. Family and previous boyfriends agree that she has some issues with her sexual maturity."

Barba scoffed. "That's not enough for the grand jury."

"Then you better hope we get a confession," Rollins snapped.

It was then that Carisi entered the room, catching the attention of both women. "Ah, this is Detective Carisi," Liv stated, as if the woman would care for introductions.

Except, the way the woman watched Carisi, with wide eyes and a strong lick of her lips—maybe an introduction was just the trick. She wasn't subtle as she checked him out and even seemed to disregard Liv completely as she started at Carisi. Not that they liked her to begin with, but this definitely solidified Rollins' and Barba's disdain for her. Carisi noticed her staring but felt it was more from the quality of outfit than him wearing it.

"Is there a problem?" He asked lightly, trying to gage her attitude towards him.

"Not at all," the suspect replied, licking her lips again. "It's just...damn, you look like a goddamn snack."

Carisi's cheeks colored into a light pink that complimented his look but he verbally ignored the comment in favor of a smile. "What's the problem here, Lieu?"

"Well, Ms. Amber Cowell here is being accused of five counts of rape from men she's had previous relations with."

"All lies!" Amber growled. "They raped _me_."

"All of them?" Carisi asked.

"What you don't believe me? Of course!"

"Hold on, I'm just askin'. We're here to hear your side of the story too."

The suspect relented a little, relaxing her shoulders and seeming more comfortable speaking with Carisi. After a few quiet seconds, she began rattling off her timeline of each encounter she had, giving vague details but doing well in sharing locations and ballpark times. The entire time, she had Carisi listening, having him nod and verbalize affirmation here and there, but whenever Liv did the same, the suspect would pause, almost as if she forgot that there was another person in the room.

Thankfully, Liv picked up on this as this was no unfamiliar territory to her. Too many times with Elliot and Nick and even herself had she's seen sexual attraction being the key to an easy and clean confession. What she wanted however was for Carisi to pick up on the same thing. Liv pondered, _How should I play this_?

When the suspect hiccupped on a section of her fourth story, Liv interrupted with a loud sigh. Both Carisi and the suspect looked at her— _perfect_.

"S'cuse me, am I boring you while sharing my traumatic experiences?"

"Not at all, Ms. Cowell, but if I'm being honest here, I don't think we're making any progress here." Liv stood from her seat and calmly headed towards the exit with one hand in her pocket. Before leaving, she turned and spoke directly to Carisi. "Oh, and Detective, I'm leaving you in charge of the paperwork. Based on how long her story is, looks like you'll be pulling a double." As Liv said this, her tone giving nothing away, she looked right at Carisi, praying that he was _listening_ to her.

There was no need to doubt. "Uh Lieu, don't you remember, I have that thing after—"

"I won't repeat myself, Detective."

Carisi tightened his jaw and forced a grim smile. "Yes, Ma'am."

After Liv exited, it was just Carisi leaning against the far wall and the suspect staring at him from the table. He took two breaths before plastering a softer smile on his face and continuing where they previously left off.

"As you were saying, Ms. Cowell?"

However, the suspect had a different direction she wanted to go. "She's a righteous bitch."

Carisi shrugged. "She's the boss; what're you gonna do?"

The suspect curled her lip as if she tasted something foul. "Why do you act like a pet she's gotta throw orders at?"

Carisi transformed his smile into a smirk. From Rollins and Barba's point of view, it was obvious, but for the suspect, his slinking from the wall to sit right next to her was seamless. He was graceful and effortless in his movements, almost like a dancer, but even if she caught on, she wasn't going to complain. The handsome detective decreasing physical distance? Yeah, she was going to savor it.

He was seated on the table with his legs crossed at the ankles but his body heat permeated the physical space between them as if he were seated on her lap. She wondered if the man ran at 100 degrees all the time. He leaned his upper body slightly and even that minimal movement was as if he towered over her.

"Well you know what they say about us pets, don't you?"

She shook her head. Seeing him up close dazed her.

His voice lowered a pitch, leaving a rumbling mixture that was interestingly smooth to the ears. "Eventually we grow our teeth."

The suspect raised an eyebrow, finding his response to be surprising. "I thought you weren't supposed to bite the hand that feeds you."

Carisi chuckled. "I don't bite, sweetheart, not unless I'm ordered too." There was gleam in his eyes as he said it, as if suddenly there was an inside joke developed between the two. "But everyone has a breaking point."

"Are you reaching yours?"

"Well I was going to ask you the same. I get the feeling that you understand what I'm saying." He lowered his voice further. "You're a pet too, ain't you?"

The suspect suddenly looked nervous, as if Carisi sniffed out a deep secret of hers. But at the same time, she did not feel afraid. His words, they resonated with her; he spoke as if he did understand her—maybe he did. She wanted to close the distance between them, align themselves so they were feeding off each other's heat. Slowly, she moved from her seat and Carisi responded by loosening the cross of his ankles. The suspect felt an incredible chill on how well his body responded to her. She closed in on him until she was standing between his thighs and felt his breath on her face. He was smirking, not losing focus for a moment and that thrilled her.

She's rode this rodeo before and bigger men before him flex and flinch in fake bravado—all tricksters. But not this one. This Detective Carisi was the real deal. A real man. Although, if she tried to kiss him, that Lieu-bitch was going to come running in and make sure to sentence her till the cows come home.

"I was just protecting myself."

Carisi nodded. "I get that. It sounds like you were tired of the same thing, everyday. That right?"

"Exactly! Every single one of them demanded the same thing."

"Never asking for your input."

"No!"

"Or your opinions."

"Never."

"How'd you put up with that?"

"I was loyal, you know. I...was a "pet", like you. I followed all of their orders without question. Benjamin would come home for lunch and tell me to drop my shorts. Don't me wrong, that excited me, but he never asked how I wanted it done. None of them did."

Carisi tsked. "I know that feeling."

"You do?!"

"Both ways," he whispered and winked. Then, "In all areas."

The suspect tipped her head, unsure of his meaning. "What do you mean?"

"I actually have 2 bosses. See, I studied to be a lawyer and got a degree. My second boss is the ADA and following his orders? Boy, talk about bending over."

"God, so you do get it," she muttered. She could not restrain herself, she reached for his forearms, feeling the warmth and clothing material; electric shocks radiated into her. She wanted to possess this man.

But Carisi did not push her away, instead, figuring a way to bring her back to focus. "I do. I'm thinking I need some tips, like how you handled yourself."

The suspect looked as if she was preening from the compliment. It was not surprising; it was common for narcissists to be proud of any praise. "It's simple really, you just gotta take charge."

"But how did you do it with all those men?"

By this point, there was no longer a hesitation in her response. "Tricking a man isn't all that hard. Taking control is a whole other story but I figured it out. I made sure I was still kind, I seduced them. Music and food and lingerie—I have pictures if you're interested. It wasn't hard to sneak it into the wine or dessert. It was to help make them last longer."

"Sneak what, sweetheart?"

She gulped, entranced by his accented breath. "The pills. A paralytic."

"To last longer?"

"No, to control them. I wanted control."

 **5:40 PM**

His tie was loosened and his hair was a little disheveled from his swooshing his hand through it. Although he was kidding earlier to Liv about his made up thing after work, he really didn't want to stay after for paperwork. Still, _someone_ had to stay to report the circus that befell them after Amber's confession; once she admitted to the drugging the food and wine, Liv and Rollins busted in there with Barba tailing right behind. All three had scary looks to them and Carisi couldn't tell where it originated from so he stayed clear of their ire. Or tried to. Once she saw all three of them charge in there, Amber took her chance and planted a wet one right on his. She tried for tongue but Carisi was at least one step ahead for that.

Thing was, her desperate attempt at molesting him resulted in the disarrangement of his clothing and hair; for some reason, no one was impressed with him. Rollins snapped and told him to " _Clean up!_ " while Barba growled that he " _Really would be bending over if this leaked out in court_ ". He wasn't sure what the problem was, he got the confession. Carisi was ready to release another dejected sigh but Ol' Fin interrupted with a pat on the shoulder.

"What're you still doing here?"

"I gotta write these reports on that lunatic."

"Really? I thought you were heading home."

"Yeah," he grumbled. "Me too. I guess everyone's mad at how I did the confession. I'm hopin' Barba won't have too much trouble trying her."

"Seriously?"

"What?"

Fin blankly stared, only showing a slight raise to his eyebrow. "You think they were mad at the confession?"

"What else would they be mad at?"

Fin's answer was a hearty chuckle. "Man, get your ass home. I witnessed the whole thing. I'll take care of it."

"S-Seriously? You don't—"

"If you finish that sentence, I'll change my mind. Get."

Carisi **beamed**. Fin felt pretty smug that he was on the receiving end and not Liv, Rollins, or Barba. "Thanks, Man. I seriously owe you."

"Yeah, yeah." As Carisi scurried to run out, Fin called him for one more piece of advice. "Tell that Caprizio to supply you with more dots. They're your thing."

The word beam wasn't a strong enough word for what Carisi expressed to him as a response.

 **LATER**

Rollins and Barba were seething. They were pissed. What was worse was that they both knew what the other was angry at and they were just feeding off each other. They witnessed what can only be considered a Greek tragedy; that _pervert_ touched him! She tainted his innocence with her wickedness...okay, none of that happened, but what was really crawling under Rollins' and Barba's skin was the still imagery burned into their minds. The color and sound was practically HD in their memories; the way he spoke, his predator demeanor, the total package he encompassed. Neither had ever seen that side of him because frankly, the moment never presented itself. Rollins had seen Carisi act like a pervert, Barba had seen him act like a student, but a sexually dominate persona disguised as a sexually submissive "pet"?! They didn't even know what to make of it!

"Please tell me you can charge her with that; Carisi can't be with her again."

"Of course I can; he went above the necessary means."

"You said you needed to get a confession."

"Yes, well not at the cost of—," Barba stopped himself from admitting more than he was comfortable with. It was too late, however.

"Bullshit," Rollins spat.

"Pardon?"

"No, don't you play that game! Was that your intention this whole time? Have him "shadow" you so you can...monopolize him?!"

"What?! You-You have some nerve! What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Inviting him to your home to have him "help" you raise your kid? Do you have the hidden glass slipper so this can end happily ever after?"

"Screw you," she said venomously. He was attacking all of the right nerves. "I don't know what you're trying because he wouldn't be happy knowing what kind of game your playing."

"Hello Pot, they call me Kettle. I hear we're both black."

They stared off at each other, losing track of time (10 minutes), before Liv and Fin intervened.

"What the hell are they doing?" Liv asked out loud, hoping the two "adults" would hear.

"Acting stupid. They're both into our little puppy and now they're mad that he's looking like the fine dog we've groomed."

Liv raised a brow. "We?"

"C'mon, Liv, I helped raise that boy."

She laughed but nodded accordingly. "I was joking, you certainly helped mold him into a good detective." But she sighed upon seeing the other two still glaring at each other. "So what do we do about them?"

"Nothing for now. If they're serious about courting him, then it's up to him. But," he shouted loudly for the other two to hear. "If this North vs South war interferes with work or Carisi's wellbeing, I'm kicking both of their asses."


End file.
